“Listen, Mazie,” whispered Johnny at last, “we can’t stay here all night.”
“No, we can’t.”
“Are you afraid to stay here alone for a minute or two?”
“N—no. But what are you going to do?” she asked in sudden alarm.
“I’m going after that fellow.”
“Johnny! You’ll be killed!”
“He’ll not harm me. It’s the only way out. I’m going.”
With a grip of her hand he signalled farewell, then with astonishing dexterity he got over the side of the boat and into the water without a sound.
Swimming down the channel until he was opposite the spot where he judged the man to have been, he at last began parting the rushes and making his way slowly through them. He had not gone ten yards when he caught sight of a black form directly before him.
“That’s him!” he breathed. “He’s in a boat. There’s a channel there.”